healing – The road less traveled

The Truth

I haven’t posted in quite some time for a few reasons. A big one is…I wasn’t ready to share my testimony – the darkness I endured in the spring of 2023 that almost ended my life. Another reason is not prioritizing myself – letting my needs and gifts sit on the back burner of my daily life for decades.

A few days ago, I shared my story on Facebook. Here it is…

In one of my weakest, most vulnerable moments, I am ready to share what I have been going through over the last few years. I have a load of work ahead of me and Drew is waiting for me to get him going. The truth is, I am not okay. I have come a long way by the grace of God but in 2023, I almost lost everything.

I did everything I could to keep my family healthy for years, pouring my energy into keeping my sons’ disease from progressing and my husband’s heart from becoming weaker. I thought I had control of it all until Christian passed away. Even after he passed, I still pushed and pushed – going back to work, becoming a people pleaser and pushing down the emotions and trauma I have experienced over the last decades.

One morning in March of 2023, I broke. My nervous system couldn’t take it anymore. I took a downward spiral and I was in fight or flight for almost 2 months. This eventually led to a failed suicide attempt. This is where I bare my soul. The paramedics rushed me to the hospital and God saved me.

I hit rock bottom and it was solid because God was there. He has raised me up and opened doors that I never imagined would open. He has brought loving, supportive friends into my life, I have been learning things I would have never learned if my life hadn’t fallen apart and I am truly blessed.

I have been in therapy, working through the trauma that has been in my body for years, leading to chronic illness. We have been uncovering old wounds and pain that I haven’t felt since after Christian passed. This pain has been showing up and at times, bringing me to my knees.

This is going to be my testimony. I have compassion for those who have lost all hope and think suicide is the only answer. I have compassion for those who suffer from mental illness. I have compassion for anyone who is suffering. Please know that you can call or text 988. Call a friend or your therapist. Call 911 if you have to.

A woman was on the 9th Street bridge yesterday and a police officer was trying to help her to step back. I felt so much heartache when Dave told me he witnessed this as he was driving in his mail truck.

You are NEVER alone. God loves you and always has and always will.

I wanted to share my most painful, vulnerable story in the hopes that it will help someone. You don’t have to do it alone. Join a church, call a friend, get some counseling, pray, call 988. You are loved my friends.

Okay, I admit that after I posted this I experienced what my therapist calls a vulnerability hangover – that time period after being vulnerable and before receiving a response. That gap of time when you wonder how others will receive what you have shared.

Today, I am at peace with sharing my story. I truly hope it helps at least one person – someone who is without hope and wanting to give up.

I am ready to continue my journey with you. I truly miss writing and being creative. God blesses every one of us with talents and gifts that we can bless others with. My writing is one of them.

I am truly thankful for your time and I truly hope I can add some joy and hope to your days. Much love to you my dear friends!!!

The Light in the Darkness

*Hitting the Rock Bottom* is a painting by Svein Ove Hareide

My last post was in March of 2023 and I want to thank you for being here after such a long gap. On a cloudy day of the same month, my life took a sharp turn that I did not see coming. I started experiencing higher levels of anxiety like never before and I had no idea what was happening. I just thought I was really stressed. I really knew something was wrong when I had my first panic attack.

I had a general feeling of anxiousness the next day and feeling lost that would barely let up and the moments of clarity became few and far between as time went on. The panic attacks increased and so did the fear and feelings of being unsafe. I started seeing a therapist and he did not explain to me why my brain was overreacting to things that slightly bothered me before. He said it was all normal. The panic attacks increased and I became stuck in a pattern of fight or flight that lasted for almost 2 months. I became exhausted in every way and eventually, I was barely able to care for my adult disabled son.

I blamed myself for what had happened to me. I did not know that anxiety disorders stem from years of stress, childhood environments, trauma, repressed grief and so much more. I thought I was letting my family down because my husband had to take time off of work and the stress on them was not healthy.

Things continued to worsen and I eventally ended up at rock bottom. It was the most difficult, painful time of my life. It was at the bottom that I realized that God had been with me the whole time, even when I did not feel worthy of His love. Jesus was there at the bottom with His arms open wide and He saved my life.

Photo by SevenStorm JUHASZIMRUS on Pexels.com

It took some time and hard lessons for me to decide to take the medication they were highly encouraging me to try. For most of my life, I have always looked down on medication for anxiety and depression. I would think things like, why doesn’t so and so get more exercise or eat better. For some people, that’s all they need alongside a good therapist who can teach the patient how to control panic attacks and learn cognitive behavior therapy skills. On the other side of the spectrum are people like me who need medication just to function, gain back strength, and also be able to do the work to heal.

Once the medication helped to get my system out of fight or flight, I started gaining strength little by little and eventually I was able to care for my son again. I prayed throughout the day, started practicing deep breathing techniques and meditation and I continue to practice them daily. I was blessed to find an awesome therapist and prescribing Nurse Practitioner and I started making strides. I have learned that anxiety is not my enemy, but a way for my body to let me know that I need to slow down and empty out that stress bucket that was getting too full. I also started following The Anxiety Guy on You Tube. He posts videos and has two podcasts. He had several anxiety disorders for years and has since healed. He has written four books that I know of that are super helpful and his programs are affordable and have helped thousands to heal from their anxiety disorders instead of just coping. I will always have my tool box but I am learning not to let anxiety run my life. It is a long, difficult journey, but I am learning so many things that I would have never learned on a different path.

God brought several miracles into our lives during my first year of healing and continues to daily. We found an angel of a caregiver to come in and help me get Drew up in the morning and she has become a close friend. Drew received an inheritance from his great grandfather and bought a new van! It wasn’t long before we started taking short little road trips and this past July, we went to Salt Lake City! When I was at rock bottom, I would have never imagined I would be where I am today.

Like any illness or condition a person recovers from, I have good days and bad days – we all do. Each day I am learning something new. My life is so different than it was before I broke and it is so much better in many ways. I have learned to slow down, trust God for EVERYTHING, love myself and the little me that went through some tough times growing up, and forgive myself while practicing self compassion.

If you have ever seen Brené Brown on You Tube or read any of her books, you would be familiar with her famous talk on vulnerability and her talk based on a quote by Teddy Roosevelt called The Man in the Arena https://youtu.be/fE6fa7OpVu0?si=QlcIlLlBQcbpLUzv. By publishing this post, I will be experiencing vulnerability like never before but that’s okay. Like Brené Brown said in her speech on being in the arena with her face marred and covered in blood and sweat, there are seats reserved for those who love and care about her and even for those who criticize her. Unless those who are critical of her are willing to join her in the arena, where life has kicked her up and down, she is not interested in what they have to say.

When I was in the darkness, unsure of my future and what was happening to me, I knew that once I healed I wanted to help others. I want to give my testimony to offer hope and to let others know that they too can heal and God can bring us out of the deepest, darkest places because He loves us unconditionally and cares for us deeply. September is National Suicide Awareness Month and it is so important for everyone to know that they matter, they are loved, and there is help. Like 911 connects us to emergency services, 988 connects you to counselors and people who can help you if you are in a crisis or contemplating suicide. There is help – people love you and care about you. I love you and am so thankful for your time. God bless you and there will be more posts to come. I am not on a timetable but I will continue to work on future posts as I continue this healing journey.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing a mental health crisis, you can dial the 24/7 National Suicide Prevention hotline at 988 or go to SuicidePreventionLifeline.org.

You are never alone! My next post, when I am ready, will be the most difficult, real post I have written.

My Comeback

I would like to start this post by thanking everyone who hung in there while I was on a nearly 5 year hiatus. I am so happy to be able to start posting again, even if I have to take baby steps. God bless you all and thank you so much!

In May of 2017, I developed a neurological condition called Spasmodic Torticollis, also known as Cervical Dystonia. After trying unsuccessfully to ease the spasms and pulling with Botox, my condition worsened and I became very sick. This condition took a wrecking ball to every area of my life. I was no longer able to use my computer, read, write, apply makeup or do anything that required my head to be still. Even sitting became nearly impossible, as well as being able to relax and lie still.

Thanks to the good Lord, I came across information about the Spasmodic Torticollis Recovery Clinic in New Mexico. I started a remote program of massage, stretches, weight exercises, dietary guidelines, and attitude work over four years ago today. Like many things that we set out to do, my recovery has taken much longer than I thought and been far more difficult than anything I have every done.

Photo by u0410u043du043du0430 u0420u044bu0436u043au043eu0432u0430 on Pexels.com

During the first two years of doing the program, I thought for sure it would only take two years at the most to recover. Boy, was I in for a surprise. It took until recently for me to understand why God is taking so much longer than I thought to help me win this battle of battles. God didn’t just want to heal me physically. God wants me to be whole. He wants to heal my spirit, soul, heart, and mind. I tried many things during the first three years of my journey, like trying to make things happen in my own timing. All that did was prolong the process and even put me on an 18 month long detour.

I look forward to sharing with you the things I have learned. Things such as patience, perseverence, trusting in God’s timing and ways, overcoming fear and others. I would have never learned so many of the things I did if I would not have developed Torticollis

I am excited to report that I am about 95 percent recovered! Once I reach full recovery, I will develop a maintenance routine and continue most of what I currently do; however, on a much smaller, more manageable scale. Next will be stepping back into my life, which I am currently working on in small, baby steps. I am hoping to be able to make more consistent blog posts in the near future, but until then, I will do what I can each day and each week.

Am I the same person I was before I lost my health? I think that anyone who has also had to deal with a chronic illness would say, I am definately not the same, but better. Thank you so much for your time and I look forward to beginning my life again!

A Year of Blessings

In the book, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, I am on gift number 548. I started writing down God’s gifts last fall. I have asked myself repeatedly why I haven’t reached 1000. I admit that over the last year I have had a tendency to complain instead of offering praise to the Lord for His many gifts.

I did not fully understand the meaning of bittersweet until we lost our boy. He suffered for the last year of his life and I felt relief (for him) mixed with profound heartache (for me) when he passed away. Christian spent the last year of his life tilted back in his wheelchair to relieve his chronic pain. He was able to read books on his iPhone because it was so lightweight and he played video games for limited amounts of time every day. He lost the ability to play video games the night before he passed away. He drove into the kitchen, held up his hands and said “Mom, my hands are not working.” He didn’t want to be resuscitated or to live with a breathing tube and he hated hospitals. Christian told me weeks before his passing that he wanted to die at home, in his own bed with his bird, Kiwi, in the room.

The pain we endured during the weeks and months that followed was unimaginable. How was it possible that I experienced joy when I looked at the sky as it turned red and orange at sunset? Why did everything look so much more beautiful after I lost my son? It was like a layer was peeled away from my soul and everything that looked beautiful before now brought tears to my eyes.

Being thankful makes the pain more bearable – the pain of losing a loved one, of the violence in the world, the constant stream of negativity in the media – the pain of living in a broken world. God gives us little presents each and every day and if we open our hearts and our eyes we will find them: the chitter of a chickadee, the glint of sunlight on a soapy plate, steam rising from a hot cup of tea or an unexpected call from a loved one.

I have so much to be thankful for and I am making more of an effort to focus on blessings instead of burdens. The Lord has given me strength to put one foot in front of the other on days when the loss feels fresh, He has blessed me with a loving husband and son, with an accessible home for Drew, a wonderful job, and a long awaited trip to California this past summer (thanks to my sister who came up from Wyoming to care for Drew). God continues to bless us with His love, grace and healing. He blesses me with the guidance and strength contained in His Word each and every morning. As we thank the Lord for His goodness we become lights in a dark world and we give hope to those who are suffering.

My Lenten Journey

As a child, I remember the purple banners hanging up in the church in the weeks before Easter and people giving up bad habits for Lent. I would watch Jesus of Nazareth every year without fully comprehending what was unfolding on the screen. I squirmed as Jesus was whipped and nailed to the cross. As I became older, I had a difficult time with the violence and stopped watching movies based on His crucifixion. Today, my devotionals have led me to the crucifixion in God’s Word and what it means in my life. Admittedly, I become emotional when I read of His grief leading up to His arrest, the flogging and how the soldiers cast lots over His garments. It took the loss of my oldest son to fully comprehend the impact of the crucifixion and resurrection of our Lord on our lives today.

Jesus died so we could live. He took the guilt and sin of the world upon His shoulders because He loved us deeply and so we can enjoy eternal life with Him after we die. Until recently, I didn’t fully know the power and significance of His resurrection because I have been stuck on the crucifixion – not only His but my own. I have focused on the negative, on my mistakes and my past. I have resisted healing from my loss out of fear of forgetting Christian – the sound of his voice, his strength, kindness and how he made me laugh.

lewistown-day-fair_1438 — Christian at the Lewistown Fair

I began my Lenten journey with a booklet with a dragonfly on the front. It stated Be Ye Transformed on the front. I have learned that Lent isn’t just a waiting period from Ash Wednesday to Easter. It is a period of metamorphosis – of letting go of negativity and false beliefs so we can receive the Truth and fully come to know the love of God.

“Just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4)

When we went to the cemetery to visit our boy today, it was sunny and we could hear western meadowlarks in the distance. A chickadee, which happened to be one of Christian’s favorite birds, landed in the tree next to us and sang a bit. As the sun warmed my face, I thought of Christian in heaven, with his favorite animals by his side, sitting in a mountain meadow surrounded by mountains surpassing any of ours in beauty and size. I didn’t shed any tears until a woman drove up to visit a grave across from ours. The age of the young man buried there isn’t far off from Christians. I cried as I watched her approach the headstone and kneel in front of it. “I know” I thought as we drove away, leaving her some privacy.

One of my favorite scriptures is John 10:10, when Jesus said “I came that they may have life, and have it to the full.” What does it mean to have a full life? It means greeting each day with gratitude and ending our “I AM” with powerful, positive words. It means fully accepting and enjoying ourselves, opening our hearts to God’s abundance and never giving up.

Remembering God’s Grace

Fall had always been my favorite season. The beauty of the changing leaves and the flight of the starlings amazed me. Since losing my son however, the arrival of Fall has brought with it a sense of dread. Now, seeing the flowers wilt and the branches become bare make my heart ache. This Thursday will be 2 years since we lost Christian. As the yellow and orange leaves scattered my front lawn, I remembered going outside to take his photo on his last birthday.

When they came to pick up the signs we rented for Christian’s birthday, I felt an ache in my heart and I didn’t know why. The fact that we would lose him 15 days later was the furthest thing from my mind.

As the 27th approaches, I want to remember God’s grace. I want to remember the kind things people did and said after Christian passed away. Sure, the pain will be there but God’s grace can be in my heart too. We literally had a roomful of flowers and a stack of sympathy cards – some from people I had never met such as a woman in Lewistown who gave us $100. I remember my friends, Tracy and Amanda, coming over to the house and offering to help with the food after the services. A woman from Kalispell who lost her son to the same disease just weeks prior drew me a picture of Christian. My dad drew a picture and my mother helped as much as she could. Another woman who lost her son to Duchenne MD flew in from Columbia Falls to attend the services. Sara from Infinity Lofts set up a dove release for us at the graveside and let my son Andrew hold and release the first dove. My good friend Michelle drove up from Lewistown and brought me something vegan to eat. Our friends Mike and Monica brought us our groceries for a couple of months until I was ready to go to the store myself. We received care packages from friends in Wyoming and Hawaii as well as family in Montana.

A man my husband went to high school with sent us kona coffee from Hawaii.

I continue to read these cards for comfort.

My sister and her family sent us a care package that gave us so much comfort.

We went back up to the cemetery a few days later to release more doves. Drew was able to hold and release Sirius again.

My dad drew this photo of Christian

April from Kalispell drew this photo

The pain was unimaginable but God’s grace kept us from completely breaking. Remembering the love and kindness of others makes the pain a little more bearable and gives me comfort even today.

Light at the end of the Tunnel

I went for a walk this morning on the River’s Edge Trail, which runs along the bank of the Missouri River. The leaves were glowing a brilliant yellow and several birds flew ahead of me along the way – a magpie, a robin and a chickadee. The way the sun hit the trees on top of the hill and how it caused the foilage at the side of the trail to glow took my breath away. I am almost overwhelmed at times with the beauty of God’s creation. Since losing my son in 2014, I see things with different eyes. I went on a walk with a friend who also lost a son, and we agreed that it’s almost like layers have been peeled away and everything we see is blindingly beautiful compared to how we saw it before.

There have been many days over the last year, however, when I have been engulfed in darkness. I have experienced the dark night of the soul and experienced pain so intense that I just couldn’t stand being me. During the first year after losing Christian, I did what one of my grief books recommended, which was to lean into the grief. This meant that I cried the tears I needed to cry and felt what I needed to feel. I leaned on God constantly, read His word more than once a day for a while, and prayed often. He has done a great healing in me that I will never forget.

The darkness set in during the second year. Taking care of my youngest son, Andrew, although difficult to do while processing the tragedy of losing Christian, gave me purpose and something to focus on. I still felt important and needed. When I returned to work after over 10 years, everything I had ever believed about myself was dramatically changed. All of a sudden my husband was taking care of Drew, cooking meals and cleaning the house – things I have done since we married in 1992. Suddenly I had no idea who I was.

Rather than turning to God in prayer and to His Word and reaching out to supportive friends, I turned inward and started defining myself by how the world viewed me and by what I did each day. I felt unimportant and lost. I stopped blogging because of the fear of what people would think if they knew I was in so much pain. I didn’t want to be a downer by writing about the darkness and sadness.

The truth is that without darkness, we are unable to learn what needs to be brought into the light and healed. The pain and difficulty we endure becomes life experience, and although we would rather aviod it, we can use it to help others. Sharing my broken heart can actually help someone else who is going through their own personal tragedy.

As much as I want to be done grieving, I am not. As Marianne Williamson states in Tears to Triumph, “it (grief) is a process – not an event- best served when we surrender to it fully. Grief allows us to process incrementally what might be too shocking to the system to have to process all at once.” Tears are nothing to be ashamed of, especially when they are for someone we cherished and loved so much who is not longer with us. They wash away layers from the heart and help us to see everything with new eyes. As I continue to cross this vast sea of grief, I will share the lessons learned and the things that God wants to show me in hopes that I can help others know that no matter how deep the sadness, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

God’s grace for the Race

Yesterday, I completed my first Island Challenge. The event took place in Lewistown at the Half Moon Ranch and it featured different events – a half-marathon, overnight bike ride and 8K/11K hikes. I signed up for the 11K hike. I am a natural introvert so engaging on such an adventure solo stirred up feelings of fear and doubt. I had thoughts of backing out more than once.

I woke up early and made the hour-long drive so I could have plenty of time to check in. I was not disappointed by the beauty of the ranch. There were cows greeting passing cars on the dirt road leading to the ranch and the rising sun brought everything to life. I arrived at the pavilion to the smell of bacon and pancakes. I checked in, pinned on my number along with the memorial pin of my son. The ranch is surrounded by mountains and wildlife so I enjoyed the views while I waited for the hike to begin.

When it was time to gather around the starting line I made sure to listen to the directions, especially pertaining to the split between the two hikes. The horn went off and I began my journey. We started on a hill and I slowly ended up in the back. I told myself that all I want to do is finish, even if I am last. I was looking forward to the solitude of being in the back.

We went uphill for over a mile and my heart was racing. My legs started to burn in places they usually don’t and the terrain became very rugged. I had to watch where I was stepping so I wouldn’t fall or roll my ankle. As we started to spread out more, I could hear the wind blowing through the tops of the pines. Everything around me was beautiful and so full of life and color, even the rocks and foliage along the side of the road. I made it to the first water station and was happy they had kleenex and fresh fruit. The oatmeal I ate for breakfast wore off before I even started the hike. We had a brief respite from walking uphill but another hill waited after the rest station. I attacked it with vigor and pumped my arms to give me a boost. Tendons I didn’t know existed were sore and I began to feel the weakness caused by the muscular dystrophy. I wasn’t about to let it stop me.

I thought of Christian and how he and his brother were never able to hike because their bodies became too weak once they were old enough. I thought of my mother and the pain she has endured from her legs giving out. I also thought of a co-worker who is battling cancer. I felt that second wind come along and I kept it up. I walked alone for a good part of the hike except for the marathon runners that passed occasionally. I came up on the 6K sign and realized I was over half way through. The second water station came a short time later and they said I had one mile left. I thought the nice man didn’t know what he was talking about. How could I only have one mile left? I pressed on further and approached a downhill slope that made me hesitate. I pictured myself trying to run down it and tumbling down for eternity like Chris Farley in one of his movies. I eased my way down and felt my quads burn like fire. When I was closer to the bottom, I let gravity help me and ran a short way. I slowed, went through a gate and I could hear cheering. I thought that was odd because I still had a way to go. The pavilion came into view and I knew something was off. I felt like I had accomplished something great, but 11k in a little under 2 hours? I crossed the finish line with a smile and a feeling of completion. It didn’t dawn on me that I went the wrong way until I noticed hikers with the 11K blue race bibs on cross the line that were in front of me earlier.

I have to admit that I felt disappointed because I signed up for the longer hike. I beat myself up a bit for making a mistake and missing that turn. I was very tired and sore after completing the shorter hike so I thought that maybe it was for the best. Next year I can try the longer hike.

I opened my devotional this afternoon and read about the grace of God. Grace is the evidence of his love for us which is freely given. It comes to us as talents, through other people or in ways totally unexpected and most needed whether we realize it or not. God wants for us what is best and sometimes it seems unfair. Although my hike ended up being 3K shorter than planned, perhaps He knew that I started off too big. My legs ached like they haven’t in years and I really cannot imagine how they would feel had I completed the longer hike.

I cannot change the fact that my legs are not as strong as I would like but God has given me the ability to keep walking and hiking, just not marathon distances. He has blessed me with a loving husband and a son who despite his prognosis, continues to do everything he can with what he has. He also blessed me with a son who kept fighting until his last breath.

Christian was with me on my hike walking beside me and he knows I gave it my all. For everything he lost and everything Andrew continues to fight for I will not give up, even if it means taking a path I didn’t expect to take.

My Camino

A few months ago, my husband asked me to watch a movie with him called The Way starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez. In the wake of the loss of his son, Thomas Avery decides to walk the Camino de Santiago, a 776 km pilgrimage across Spain also known as The Way of St. James. The images in the movie were stunning and breathtaking. After having lost my oldest son in 2014, I really connected to the movie. Each person takes a stone with them that symbolizes their burdens. Along their pilgrimage they are able to lay the stones in an area to symbolize leaving their burdens behind.

20120618-193820 — The burdens people release have much to do with their reasons for walking the Camino. It may be the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job or overcoming a physical challenge.

15602033624_4c610f8944_b — The images online and in the movie are numerous. I encourage you to follow a Camino page on Instagram or search online. I experience peace from many of the images.

The journey ends for most at the Praza Obradoiro Cathedral. The images of the Cathedral brought tears to our eyes.

botafumeiro-santiago-de-compostela1a — One of the most memorable parts of the movie was seeing the massive incense burners swaying to and fro across the Cathedral.

The journey takes at least a month and many walk all the way to the ocean. Some start further into France before reaching Spain. There are numerous documentaries and one we enjoyed is called Walking the Camino. This movie affirmed my decision to add this pilgrimage to my bucket list.

It may be years until I am physically able to complete this journey let alone getting the time off of work, but I decided to start my journey now. I am not able to actually fly to the beginning of the Camino at St. Jean Pied De Port, but I can walk daily to overcome the physical discomforts of muscular dystrophy, lessen the depression and anxiety of daily life and loss, and strengthen my mind and body for something great which I hope to achieve. Here are pictures of my Camino:

I walk to the courthouse at least twice a day and always encounter beauty, whether it’s a sparrow in the grass or patterns on the sidewalk. The flower garden in Gibson Park is full of color. The River’s Edge Trail by Rainbow Dam is so peaceful and is also my favorite place to walk.

My sister and I walked the M trail behind the University of Missoula (go Griz!) and she inspired and encouraged me to keep walking and improving. Thanks Sis! I will always be thankful that my husband introduced me to the Camino de Santiago and we both hope to make the journey together one day. Check out the movie on Netflix and see if you can walk away without being inspired. Much hugs and love to you all!